The “Fifth Generation” of alumni of China’s Beijing Film Academy first made their marks at home and abroad with two ’80s films — Chen Kaige’s “Yellow Earth”(1984) and Zhang Yimou’s “Red Sorghum” (1988). The color in their titles was a tell.
The hallmark style of the two leading lights of this “generation” was sumptuous production design underscored by striking Technicolor compositions — landscapes and interiors immaculately framed — with the deep, rich colors used as symbolism.
The still-repressive post-Maoist government wasn’t necessarily a fan of the “symbolism” part. Any time you see bright reds and oppressive, abusive older men in such films you can bet your bottom Yuan the filmmakers are making a statement on life in a totalitarian state. Getting such movies out of the country and into film festivals, let alone international cinemas, was difficult.
Yimou’s second landmark work, 1990’s “Ju Dou,” was the breakout film for this movement, that filmmaker and his muse and star, Gong Li. A film festival darling — I first saw it at the 1990 New York Film Festival — that would become an Oscar nominee, it was the hit that paved the way for “Raise the Red Lantern,” “Farewell, My Concubine,” “Hero,” “The Emperor and the Assassin” and the masterpiece of that generation of movie-makers, “House of Flying Daggers.”
“Ju Dou” is, on its surface, a simple love triangle, a Chinese melodrama with a hint of “The Postman Always Rings Twice” about it. But setting this story in a 1920s rural dye works, full of color and with just a handful of characters — an abusive older husband (Wei Li), the much younger wife (Gong Li) he “bought” to sire an heir and the nephew (Baotian Li) whom the old man took in and basically enslaved as his loyal, overworked servant and labor force — is our clue to dig deeper for its true meaning.
Downtrodden “nephew” Tianqing is instantly infatuated with Ju Dou, even gouging out peep holes to spy on her bathing. She picks up on this and tries to foil it, for a time. As he cannot help but notice her bruises and overhear the screams from her nights with her husband Jinshan, he doesn’t just lust for her. He fears for her.
She plays on this, eventually asking if Tianqing will “let him kill me?” As work progresses and fabrics are dyed in glorious golds and satin reds, the two give in to temptation. A baby is born, and it probably isn’t Jinshan’s.
And then the old man comes to harm and faces a paralyzed future, topped off by his bride taunting him with the news that his bloodline will die with him and that her son with his adopted nephew will inherit his business and family name.
Things turn even messier than that.
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